The Science of Lies
by Artemis Day
Summary: When the God of Lies and the Woman of Science meet, it can only be loud and chaotic, but maybe there can be more beneath the surface. Maybe, against all odds, there can be love. A collection of Lokane oneshots and drabbles. (Please see the Author's note in chapter 9).
1. The Bad Guy

**A/N: This was a fill for a prompt on norsekink. The prompt being to write about Jane being unable to hate Loki even after everything he's done, for all the same reasons we can't hate him. In short, Jane is a reluctant Loki fangirl.**

**This was written prior to the release of The Dark World, and is therefore an AU of it.**

* * *

What is it about bad boys?

Jane doesn't know. She's never known. Once, she was a teenager wondering when all her friends collectively lost their minds and decided Severus Snape was just misunderstood and 'sad'. Before that, she was a seven year old girl grossed out by everyone's crush on Judge Frollo. She would've been perfectly happy continuing her life thusly, finding nice, respectable men to date, be they successful doctors or figures of legend. Add one more to the list of reasons why she should utterly despise Loki Odinson/Laufeyson/whatever and wish him a painful death.

The keyword is _should_. The problem is that she doesn't.

Which brings her back to the original question: what is it about bad boys?

Well, the more accurate picture of a bad boy is something to the effect of a brooding, leather jacket wearing, motorcycle riding, Jimmy Dean type. Loki... well, he certainly broods a lot.

The problem is that he's traded leather jackets and motorcycles for genocide and world domination. Jane can think of one very good example of someone who should remind her of him. If she could only make the comparison without wanting to throw up.

It isn't right. She shouldn't like him. She shouldn't even pity him. She should've stayed as angry as the day they met. She should've punched him a few more times, blown off some steam. One more for Erik. Another one for the people he killed before New York. Another for the destruction of her hometown that they're still trying to recover from.

Then, every time he recoiled from the blow like it was nothing more to him than being tickled by a feather, he could grin at her with those condescending eyes and tell her he likes her. Because her pain and the pain of millions mean nothing to him. She has to remember that, and so she punches him over and over again in her mind until it and her hand are sore.

They spend days traveling this realm. Svartalfheim, Thor calls it. She mostly stays by him, letting him tell her stories of his past battles, his deep timbre soothes her and lulls her to sleep at night. She loves to hear him talk; she loves everything about him. She doesn't know yet if she loves _him_, it's too soon to tell. She knows she loves who he is and what he does, in the way she hates who Loki is and what he's done. That's what makes it so hard, because as she doesn't yet love Thor, she doesn't hate Loki. The only person she hates is herself for even _having_ this conflict.

But it's getting worse everyday. Loki sits up late at night because he can't sleep, and instead of ignoring him, she wants to ask why he did it. He finds them food for dinner and insists on preparing it himself (Thor isn't careful enough with a cleaver, he says), and instead of being suspicious of what he might do to that meat before it's put on their plates, she wishes she could go over and help him. He fights at Thor's side, always one step away from betraying him and running if the opportunity presents itself, and instead of hoping a stray elf will find just the right chink in his armor to strike, she is impressed by his grace and dexterity. Olympic gymnasts couldn't move as swiftly as he does.

She wants all of it to go away. She wants to fall in love with Thor with nothing to stand in their way. She wants to hate him and mean it, and let him know that she means it. She can't even talk to him because if she does, he will see through her. He's called the God of lies for a reason. He can smell them on you.

Maybe that's why he hasn't exposed her yet. She meant it the day she punched him. She hated him then, or she almost did. If she tries it again, or if she talks to him now, it won't be like the first time. That was a reflex, an instinct. This would be rehearsed, forced. He'll know.

It comes to her when the battle is over and Malekith is destroyed. She's been bottling it up for too long, but at least now she knows what to say.

She waits for the moment that he is dragged back to his cell in shackles. He looks her way and she meets him without fear.

"I hate the things you've done."

There is a silence that feels longer than it is.

Then he smiles, and her heart plummets.

"Good save," he says.

He _knows_.


	2. Empathy

**A/N: This was written for 'Seven Days of Magic and Science,' a Lokane Week event held at the tumblr fanfic archive, magic-n-science. The prompt was 'Letting Go.'**

**Again, this is an AU of The Dark World.**

* * *

She's out on the balcony with Thor. The majesty of Asgard is set before her unworthy eyes, proud and poised as the most powerful realm of all the nine. It takes her breath away. She can manage nothing beyond the smallest exclamation, wrapped up in one of Frigga's silken cloaks that swallows her up. Thor comes up from behind to hold her, the tiny mortal like a doll in his arms. Loki wouldn't watch them, but sitting in a cell for a year hasn't provided much distraction on its own. He's read all his books and finished tonight's dinner, and Jane Foster's arrival is the most interesting thing to happen in Asgard since Thor's failure of a coronation, and he does know how pitiful that is, thank you.

He sees her like this many times after their victory over the Dark Elves. She stays in Asgard for Thor, for as long as it takes for Odin to come around and give them his blessing. Thor is confident that day is upon them, Jane Foster is not so sure. Loki doesn't have to ask to know this, and he doesn't. She makes it clear she wants him halfway around the world at all times. Since that's not an option, she settles for opposite ends of the palace. Invisible lines are drawn. Her side is the west end with the observatory and Thor's chambers. His is the east with the library. If she wants to venture to his side, she doesn't. Now that he is free of that cell, Loki spends all his time there, and however large the palace library is, he knows every inch of it. He would find her in an instant if she was here.

Then one day, she is. He finds her in the astronomy section, bewilderedly running her finger through titles from her own home world like she thought his would be ignorant of them. She never sees him, but she feels his presence. The fine hairs on her neck stand on end and she leaves in a hurry, books a jumble in her arms. Loki is almost sad to see her go.

Time passes slowly on Asgard, to the point that counting the days is almost meaningless. It is not so for Jane Foster, and she's feeling it a little more each day. Months have gone by since Thor returned with her, just a few shy of a year. All that time attending banquets and debating with scholars and garnering support among the nobility and common folk, and still it's a feat for Odin to address her by name. Loki would rather not notice how much his former father's aloofness chips away at her. What confidence she had ebbs away slowly, under a crippling isolation forced upon her. Odin is the gatekeeper who holds the key to Valhalla just out of Jane Foster's reach and laughs as she jumps with all her might to reach it, and always falls short. Loki sees it, and it would really be nice if he didn't.

It's not so easy to avoid it, any more than it is to avoid her. She's becoming bolder now, going into the library without fear and spending hours buried in books and parchment, just like he did when he was a boy. She no longer cares about him watching her. He does it openly one day, sits at the other end of her table, and she never bats an eyelash. If it truly was bravery that spurred her on, and not certainty that she was going to be shipped back to Midgard and a need to consume as much knowledge as possible before that happened, even that would have been enough.

But now his eyes are open. He sees how disdainfully those who don't accept her look upon her. Sometimes, one hateful stare can undo a thousand loving ones. He sees Thor try to make it right; he tells her someday they will see, but his words are no longer enough (have they even been?). More than anything, he sees the wear in Jane's eyes, the need for an end to it all. Whatever she once felt for Thor is dead and buried in a sea of empty promises. The only love that keeps her here now is a love for science and learning, and if Odin was so unwilling to keep her for Thor, she hasn't a prayer now.

And Loki should not care about any of this. He should watch her descent, and he should laugh and sneer at her. After a time, he should tire of her, and he should let her go back to that hovel of a world where she belongs, to be forgotten, to grow old and die in a blink of his eye. That is simply how it should be.

Tomorrow, Odin will inform Jane that it is time for her to go- he told Frigga as much while Loki's double listened outside the door. Tonight, Loki thinks about all the wonders he'll show her when he uses the momentum to make his daring escape and take her as his hostage. Meanwhile, Jane is draped over him with the sheets bunched up at her back, snoring softly.

He never has done the things he should.


	3. Becoming

**A/N: This is a companion piece to yesterday's post, Empathy. The prompt for this one was 'Slow Kisses.'**

**This story also contains mild sexual content.**

* * *

She never wanted a kingdom.

To be a Queen… she didn't need Asgard to know what kind of burden a fairytale ending carried. To have all those people relying on your for justice and safety. It would be one thing if Asgard was a constitutional monarchy, and Odin merely a figurehead with an entire parliament to do the work for him. Jane stands behind Thor as he addresses the people, their King-to-be. They don't know who she is, and she is no one anyway. Their eyes and their voices weigh her down and crush her flat, with Odin's condescending eye to strike the final blow.

Thor doesn't see her pain. His proper coronation is just around the corner, and he is going to do it right this time. The last night they spent together, he left at dawn and she woke up to an apologetic note and a bouquet of the most fragrant flowers Asgard has to offer. The scent gave her a headache.

On bad days, she blames him. The false love that kept his visage golden in her heart has withered away like one of those flowers. In her mind she's constantly giving him a piece of her mind. She blames him for leading her on, accuses him of losing interest in her and having the gall not to tell her, accuses Odin of keeping him on diplomatic missions just so that he's away from her. That, at least, she can never say is just her wild imagination, not with her would be father-in-law dragging him off at all hours without even a glance in her direction, let alone an apology.

She throws herself into study: her final, truest love. The world before her is one no mortal has ever seen before or will ever see again. With the time she had left, she will learn as many of it's secrets as possible. All that hinders her efforts is Loki. He guards the library like a snarling wildcat. When she endeavors to enter his domain, she can feel him everywhere. Whichever way she turns, it's like he's right behind her, a dagger poised above her heart in wait of just the right moment...

But he could never hurt her. A thousand soldiers would be upon him if he even thought of it. However much Odin may not like her, he would not see her dead. Thor told her so himself.

So Jane learns to co-exist with him. No longer grabs her books and run from him, she sits and relaxes and reads at her own pace and lets him sulk when he cannot scare her off. He's just a little boy with a rubber spider tied to a stick that he holds over her head. The unease doesn't fade overnight, but one day he sits openly at the opposite end of her table, and she hasn't a care in the world.

"Why are you with him?" he asks her out of the blue in a perfectly civil tone.

Jane gets over the shock of him addressing her in a very composed manner, and flips the page in her book like it doesn't bother her, reading the top paragraph of what is becoming the most interesting passage so far. He will not be spoiling this for her, no sir.

"I'm not with anyone," she says.

She never should have said that.

She should have given him nothing but silence; everything else is an opportunity for him to take what he wants. He sees the hidden meaning in her words, hears the regret that she doesn't notice herself. The power of words is an amazing thing. It's how she's come to be sleeping in a bed that isn't hers, in the arms of a man who isn't Thor. He whispers sweet, intoxicating words in her ear of all the wondrous places she will see.

Tomorrow will be a beautiful day in Asgard. Odin will tell her that it is time for her to return to her kind. Thor will argue her case out of obligation more than love, and he will fail to see the difference. Jane will stand before the bifrost she helped to restore and bear witness to Loki's escape. As his 'prisoner,' she will leave Asgard for good, and never again see her home world either.

How did it come to this? How did she go from Queen to criminal? How did she allow Loki's slow kisses in the dark to taint her soul black?

His finger on her chin pulls her face up to his. It's an eternity before their lips touch. In the bedroom, Loki is all about anticipation; he will poke and prod and have her ready to tear herself asunder with need, and only then will he grant her release. He takes her harder than the first time. She screams herself hoarse while he is deceptively quiet. His body language speaks for him, the words_ 'you are mine' _are in his every touch and thrust, and with each sound he wrests from her, she makes it true.

Maybe someday, he'll be hers as well.


	4. Day 31

**A/N: Here's one all you Lokiday fans will like! **

**Hopefully, you'll accept my apology for not updating in so long? (I swear to God I'm working on it)**

**The prompt was Banter.**

* * *

He's in the corner of the room, has been since she woke up. He's not doing or saying anything. He's not even looking her way as she writes on the chalkboard. A chaotic mess of useless equations is squeezed into the four corners, and all around the massive hole punched through the center. This thing was left in the basement labs for a reason, but it's the best she can do for now. Pretty soon, she'll have to come up with a routine for stealing the better equipment from upstairs, one that gets her around the many cameras nailed to the wall. Not to mention there isn't a single time of day that the halls are empty.

Anyway, that's not the problem right now, Loki is. She has plenty of May 5ths to figure out her chalkboard problem. It's just like the ones in a math book; somewhere in all the many components is the solution she needs, it's just a matter of finding it.

Loki isn't like that. He is a living, breathing person- if one of questionable origins and sanity- who will no sooner spill his heart to her than profess his deep love and admiration of the human race. He's more than a closed book. He's a closed book with a stainless steel lock hidden away in a secret library halfway around the world protected by a dozen booby traps that would melt your face off if you touched.

Anything she asks him, he either brushes off or gives some vague excuse about it being 'unimportant' or 'not the right time' or 'you couldn't possibly understand with your pitiful mortal intellect, now be silent.' It never changes, even after so many days in his company and knowing him in the most physically intimate way possible. That's just it though, physical intimacy is the only way she can phrase what they have. She can't even call it 'friends with benefits' because they're sure as hell not friends.

She's distracted by a soft thumping, as he plays catch with an old, stained beaker. That it's cracked on one side doesn't escape her notice, and she winces each time she thinks he's going to miss and then he doesn't.

"You know, if you have time to do that, you could come over here and help me," she says.

"Of course I could."

He throws it a little higher now, almost to the ceiling and the flickering lights. It goes wildly off course, but comes right back to Loki like a piece of metal to a magnet, and he throws it again.

"So why don't you?" Jane asks, hands on her hips.

He looks up.

"Are you doing something useful over there?" He throws the beaker one more time and loses interest while it's still in the air. It falls to pieces inside the garbage can. "Or are you still fiddling with those numbers and trying to make me believe they are worthwhile?"

"Well, I'm not playing catch with myself," Jane answers sweetly. "So if anyone is making progress here…"

"I _am_ making progress." He vaults over a table to reach her, his unfair height advantage meaning he can spin the chalkboard to the blank other side, and she can't do anything about it. "I am progressively finding new ways to make your face that lovely shade of red that suits you so well."

From the way he smiles and the tingling of her cheeks, Jane knows that he has gotten what he wanted, and she could scream her rage to the rooftops. She won't though, because for all that Loki remains a mystery to her, one thing about him is as clear as day.

With a sultry smile, Jane leans in, letting her breath meet his ear in that way that always gets him. He doesn't disappoint as his throat closes up and his head tilts in her direction.

"You know," she says. "There are way better things we could be doing than messing with boring old numbers and playing kid's games."

She blows, and he shivers.

"Are there?" he says.

Jane grins the predator's grin she's learned from him.

"Of course there are."

She pulls away and walks out the door. She never looks back except when she's out in the hall and sees him in the corner of her eye, all shallow faced and sweaty, his mouth agape.

The next time she wakes up to 'Come On, Eileen' and Dr. Ahlberg and Jacobine's morning visits, Loki is there the second she's sent everyone off, his hands and mouth upon her.

They don't get out of bed for three hours.


	5. Offline

**A/N: This was written for a drabble meme that I reblogged one day (you get a symbol in your ask and you write a drabble based on the scenario that corresponds with the symbol). Tumblr user, justatriflewicked, sent in a 'you pick' symbol, so I went with 'Online Relationship', and this is what came of it.**

* * *

_(Stargirl81 is now online)_

_(DLewis is now online)_

**DLEWIS: **Jane! Dude!

**STARGIRL81: **What is it, Darcy? You know I'm working right now.

**DLEWIS: **Then why are you on a chatroom?

**STARGIRL81: **I'm not. The website just automatically logs me in whenever I turn on the computer. I don't know how to disable that feature yet.

**DLEWIS: **Seriously? You have three degrees and you can even figure out how to work Yahoo! Messenger. No wonder I have to remind you to eat.

**STARGIRL81: **Just tell me what you want.

**DLEWIS: **I don't know if I want to now.

**STARGIRL81: **Darcy…

**DLEWIS: **Thor and Loki totally got Yahoo! Messenger!

**STARGIRL81: **So?

**DLEWIS: **WHADDAYA MEAN SO?

**DLEWIS: **I didn't even know they had computers!

**DLEWIS: **Can you imagine all the crap Loki can get up to if he's online?

**DLEWIS: **Pretty soon the entire country is going to be hacked with some kind of dancing snake video or a picture of Loki telling them to declare him king if they want their internet back.

**DLEWIS: **I don't know, whatever bit of insanity he comes up with this week.

**DLEWIS: **Did you know he switched around all the icons on my desktop? I try to check my antivirus and I wind up on Internet Explorer.

**DLEWIS: **INTERNET EXPLORER, JANE!

**DLEWIS: **JANE ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION?

**DLEWIS: **ANSWER ME!

**DLEWIS: **JANE?

_(iruleyou is now online)_

**DLEWIS: **You! Tell me what you did with Jane, you Internet Explorer using fiend!

**IRULEYOU: **I can assure you, Ms. Lewis, whatever I have engaged Jane Foster in is nothing that she did not give her explicit consent to.

**DLEWIS: **Like hell she did. I know Jane better than that! You probably have her on Internet Explorer right now, don't you?

**IRULEYOU: **Well, if you wish to know, perhaps you can come see for yourself. My new residence is only ten miles from yours.

**DLEWIS: **I'll be there in twenty minutes, and when I get there, so help me I will taser your ass so hard you won't know it from your elbow!

_(DLewis has logged off)_

**IRULEYOU: **You can come out now, dearest.

_(Stargirl81 is now visible)_

**STARGIRL81:** Thanks Loki. Maybe now I can get some work done.

**IRULEYOU: **It's a pleasure as always, Jane. In fact, I would not object to taking a little more of your time to make poor Darcy's assumptions a reality.

**STARGIRL81: **What?! Are you kidding me?

**IRULEYOU: **Why would I joke about this?

**STARGIRL81: **For God's sake, Loki! I'm WORKING, and this is a public chatroom. Anyone could come in and-

_(You are now in a private chat with iruleyou)_

**IRULEYOU: **Does this suit your needs?

**STAGIRL81: **How did you do that? I'm supposed to be able to reject a private chat.

**IRULEYOU: **Jane, Jane, Jane, you should know that I am far beyond such trivialities. Now then, seeing as we can't be together in person at the moment, would you like to hear about all that I plan to do to you on our next encounter? It will heavily involve showers, preceded by extensive use of that chocolate sauce concoction you are so fond of.

**STARGIRL81: **…I can spare ten minutes.

**IRULEYOU: **I thought so.


	6. Zombie Attack

**A/N: Like yesterday, this one came from a drabble meme. Hollywithaneye requested a zombie AU.**

* * *

Jane checks her pocket; only one magazine left. She glances up at the horde of shuffling, drooling undead closing in on her. Ten bullets for a hundred and something zombies. She doesn't need math to know that the odds are against her.

Oh well, she hasn't survived this long by submitting to poor chances. These zombies want a fight, she's game.

She holds the gun the way Natasha taught her ages ago (she hopes to see the woman alive someday). The three zombies closest to her each receive a bullet to the head. Another two go down the same way. In quick succession the last five bullets exit out the barrel and enter a zombie's skull. Conserving bullets as much as possible is another thing Natasha taught her, but Jane is kind of beyond that at this point.

She drops the final magazine, kicking it away. Her empty gun hangs useless in her hand as she steps back to meet the wall. She molds herself to it. It would be nice if she could blend into the colors like some kind of chameleon.

Zombies hands paw at her stomach and chest, caring for nothing but the soft matter of her brain. They drone on, their gaping maws lowering to the top of her head.

A small dagger embeds itself in the lead zombie's eye. He sinks to his knees and falls forward. Jane shoves him, knocking over two more zombies who have no time to correct their (frankly awful) posture before two more daggers end their unlives as well. Jane ducks down, allowing a hundred more daggers to swarm from every direction. She'll never understand how he can do that, _and_ create twenty clones of himself to fight and confuse the zombies at the same time.

But he does, and now the zombies have lost whatever ranking they had as they fail to find a satisfying meal in one of the many Loki doubles, which vanish into thin air as soon as they are touched.

When only ten or so remain, the real Loki steps out at Jane's side, a fresh magazine in hand. He offers it to her like it's a flower, smiling innocently in the face of Jane's scowl.

"Do you _always_ have to do the whole dynamic entry thing? Why don't you just blow them all up or something?"

Jane reloads her gun and dispatches the remaining zombies. Turning to Loki again, he seizes the opportunity to lift her chin and steal a kiss that definitely does not leave her blushing.

"But Jane dear, it's so much more fun this way."


	7. Color Coordination

**A/N: This was a request from gabbiki on tumblr.**

* * *

For all that Jane has never cared for fancy clothing, she does at least like a little color. That's why she stocks her closet with all the reds and blues she can find, leaving room for a couple of yellows, purples and oranges. She doesn't want to get too repetitive.

Green was usually the last color she would go with. She had nothing against it, it just never caught her eye like other colors did. It was the grass under her feet as she looked to the sky.

Even when Loki came around, with all his dark color schemes and style choices, it never really grew on her. If anything, it did the opposite.

Loki didn't help matters, because the word 'helpful' seemed to have been erased from his vocabulary a long time ago. This is how Jane finds herself in her closet, digging far enough to reach Narnia in her search for _something_ that's either not a shade of green or that she can actually remember owning.

"Loki!" she cries, ripping a light green button down blouse off the hanger and accidentally taking a forest green jumper with it.

"You called?" his silky voice comes from right behind her, but Jane doesn't jump. She's used to that by now. It's this latest prank that's new; trust him to be 'creative.'

"Can you explain this?" Jane throws a pair of green denim jeans at his head. They slip off his shoulders to the ground, and he nudges them with his shoe.

"Hmmm…" he takes the blouse from her. The care with which he examines each button drives Jane's patience further into the ground. "Well, it appears that you have finally taken my advice and made some changes in your wardrobe. I wholeheartedly approve, especially of your color choices."

He puts the blouse up to her neck, straightening the sleeves to get them just right over her arms. Jane slaps it out of his hands.

"Quit playing stupid, I know you did this!"

"While I can understand why you would think that," Loki glances into her closet, at the bright green sneakers and sandals sitting side by side, "I'm obligated to inform you that you have yet to give me any evidence of my involvement."

"Other than the fact that my clothes have magically changed color and you're the only person I know who can do that?" Jane snaps. "Or that you're_you_?"

From there, Loki is particularly showy in his phony efforts to solve the mystery of the repainted wardrobe. He studies the whole of it as one, then levitates random shirts and pants out to get a better look at them. Jane snatches each one out of the air, until every piece of clothing she owns is bunched up in her arms. She drops them, giving up completely, and wanting to go take a nap and have nice dreams where she picked Thor instead and didn't have to deal with this crap.

"Jane, I wish you wouldn't look at me like that, it is decidedly unappealing out of bed."

His eyes flick to the bed, his silent suggestion obvious, not to mention unwanted as all hell.

"Just fix this, and don't mess around with my clothes anymore!" Jane tosses him a tank top, which he doesn't try to catch. "Where do you even get the idea to do these things?"

She gets no answer, but she hardly cares as her wandering eye locks in on the dresser. Short, square and brown, with two rectangular drawers, it was easy to forget it was there unless one put it to good use. Jane has a specific use for it, one Loki is intimately aware of.

She darts to the dresser, placing herself between Loki and it's contents to deny him a look inside. Logically, he could stay exactly where he is can have a perfect view of her underwear drawer. Jane curses his superior height as she braces herself for the horrors she is about to witness.

She forces one eye open, to a collection of familiar white, beige and black. Tucked away in the far corner is a touch of red from their first night together, and that is the extent of the color. Jane hunches over, but the relief that washes over her is tainted by his laughter.

"Darling, please. Even I would not be so lecherous, assuming I was the cause of this."

As he crosses the room, her clothes fly back onto their hangers, neat as could be, but retaining that stupid color. Jane would try and think of a comeback, but she'd rather just have that nap now. If he could just leave…

"What I would do is make additions."

Jane's grip on the dresser tightens- it's a good thing the wood is too glossy for splinters.

She goes through the whole drawer removing every bra and pair of panties for her inspection. She holds them above her head to check for change or signs that they aren't hers, one after another. Loki lies down on the bed with his head in his hands, grinning.


	8. Gingerbread

**A/N: This was an anonymous request, and I should warn you, it was a cracky request, and I am a former crack writer, so it shows.**

**Also, gabbiki, the requester of yesterday's drabble, drew some very lovely fanart for the story that I almost forgot to mention. The link is in my profile. Check it out and give her some love.**

* * *

"Loki, you can forget about the Armani scarf under the tree. I AM GETTING YOU NOTHING BUT COAL THIS YEAR AND EVERY YEAR AFTER!"

Loki licked his finger and flipped to a new page in his book. "I believe there are some holiday relevant connotations to that statement, however I don't care to remember what they are."

He set the book down- it was boring him anyway. Watching Jane fight off a pair of life sized, sweet smelling cookie men, armed with a kitchen knife and sheer force of will (the very one that made him take her as his lover in the first place), was far more entertaining.

Here now, she fought valiantly against her unrelenting foes. Their faces were so life-like, but their eyes so false, and smiles so empty. They promised much, but gave only fear in return. Not to Jane, though.

Not to Darcy Lewis either for that matter.

"Veer a little to the left, Jane! Righty's about to steal a kiss."

Jane heeded her words, though she was sure to shoot Darcy a glare as the other woman nibbled on the neck of her gingerbread man. The pleasured moans he/it made could only be made worse with the obnoxious way Darcy chomped on the thing.

"Darling, you are as fierce as a jungle lion," said the gingerbread man on the right as Jane plunged the knife into his shoulder. It stuck out at an angle, creating a massive crack from his armpit to his leg, but she might as well have just thrown a paper wad for all the good that it did.

"There are no lions in the jungle!" Jane shouted.

She searched the drawer for another knife. Loki didn't need to look to know she was down to the butter knives. The only other sharp knife she had was jutting out of 'Lefty's' cream drop eye. They had once had a third member, until that one turned out to be a little too forward for Loki's liking. Once his hands started groping at Jane's bottom, he had to put his foot down, and now the half of him that hadn't exploded was food for the cats in the alley.

"Loki, you are unbelievable," Jane ground out. It was much more intimidating than the way she closed in on the gingerbread men, her butter knife held like Excalibur itself.

"You said that once before," Loki replied. "I think I liked the context better then."

"I'm not talking to you anymore!" she shouted at him. "I mean it's one thing to not like Christmas but you know, normal people don't express it like this."

"Normal people _can't_ express it like this, more likely."

"Normal people know that doing things like this is completely insane! That's why they're _normal!_"

"Oh, darling your rage is so enticing," said the gingerbread man on the right. The knife handle prodded at Jane's collar until she backed off. "Might I sample it?"

"_What_- that doesn't… I don't know whether to be grossed out or angry anymore!"

"In their defense, Jane," said Loki with a lewd smile. "You _are_ quite ravishing when you're angry."

Jane gaped at him, the butter knife falling from her hands with a clatter.

"That's it," she said.

She ran to the refrigerator and back. Out came the newly purchased carton of skim milk, which she worked open and aimed at the gingerbread men.

"Back up, NOW," she cried out. "Or so help me, I will drench you and tear you apart with my bare hands!"

"Exhibit A," said Loki to himself as Jane proceeded to do just that with great relish- for her and for the gingerbread men.

"Hey, you two have fun over there!" Darcy shouted from the living room, which she was in the process of leaving with her gingerbread man, the bedroom just a few doors away. "I'll see you in the morning- assuming I'm not in a diabetic coma or something, in which case, just leave me to ascend into paradise."

"You have such an eloquent way of speaking," says the enamored gingerbread man, his uneaten eye beholding her like a rare gem. "I could lose myself in the gentle intoning of your voice."

"Dude, just shut up and let me eat your other arm."


	9. Stars Above

**A/N: This was a request from l-o-k-i-hiddleston (Anonymous Companion). **

**You'll notice that I've marked this story complete. That is only because I have no more drabbles to post at this moment in time. At some point in the next few days, I may take some requests and have more to post. I'm not sure when that will be. Until then, thanks for reading!**

* * *

Jane halts in her actions- the tiny ceramic angel will have to wait to find a spot on the tree. Tiny sparks of magic bounce off her neck, harmless, but so very annoying. His laughter builds when she turns, and the three floating baubles change their pattern from circling behind her head to around it.

"Loki, that was funny for five seconds," she says. "now, it needs to stop."

The baubles all drop, one of them landing in her hand. She sets it aside to use next, it'll go well in the spot between the Santa head and the glass heart.

From where he sits on the couch with his feet up, Loki scoffs.

"I could have that tree decorated in nothing flat, and save you all this trouble," he says.

"I _want_ to do it myself, for the hundredth time," she said.

Loki always wants to take on her workload with that oh-so-fancy and convenient magic of his. For now, he'd drawn the line at her day job, but pretty soon, he'll be turning her lab into an exact replica of Yggdrasil for her. Even now, he just can't accept that his backhanded attempts at 'assistance' aren't wanted, not without a roll of his eyes and a comment or two.

"If it's so important that you do all the work yourself, why were you so eager to let me carry the tree and put it into place?"

"You may not have noticed, but Christmas trees are heavy."

Jane deliberates over whether a bowtie or a snowman would look better next to the snowflake, and yet no matter how much she sets her mind to it, his voice rings loud and clear.

"_That_ was heavy? A child could have done it."

"An Asgardian child maybe…" she replies.

Jane steps back when her work is done. She's stepped up her effort from last year; having someone to celebrate with helps no matter how apathetic he was. She'd even made a new popcorn garland instead of just rehashing the old one. She has the bandaged fingers to show for it. There's just one more thing she needs, and then the tree will be perfect. The barren top will look perfect with the star she bought. It was inexpensive and plastic, but pretty all the same. At the store, she'd been undeterred by the many nicer ones that wouldn't fit into her budget no matter how hard she tried.

She fishes for the box amid all the empty, overturned ones. Tossing them aside, she seeks out a hint of dark blue with the store's logo, but there is nothing. Jane backs up again, appraising the boxes, but the one she needs is nowhere in sight.

"Where's my star?" she asks herself. "I could've sworn I brought it down…"

A brilliant glow has Jane looking up. What she sees drives the store bought star out of mind forever. The tiny cloud of golden whiteness hovers above her, first stationary, then making slightly jerky movements left. It stops above the tree and descends. At the first hint of foliage, the light dims into a five pointed star. It shines with the purest light Jane has ever seen.

"Wow…" she whispers.

"And that is why you should let me help you," Loki says smugly. "It makes everything better, does it not?"

Jane would yell at him if she wasn't smiling so hard.


	10. With This Ring

**A/N: This was a request by aenigmaticdays.**

* * *

"This is all your fault. Completely and totally."

Jane spun herself around in her chair, denying him the right to fight back to her face, so Loki made due with glaring daggers at the top of her head. He wished he had a real one just so he could dispatch it from the rest of her body. After the day he just spent, it would have been greatly cathartic.

'Would have' were the key words. The whole scenario ran on the assumption that letting her die would not be the death of him!

One table over, Frigga searched an enormous, ancient tome for answers. A yellow gleam surrounded the book as it floated off the table, pages turning at a speed second to none. A thoughtful stare graced Frigga's aging but always lovely features.

"Just a little longer, dears," she said. "Now stop pouting, Loki. It's unseemly."

She hadn't once looked his way, not that she ever had to. Loki wasn't pouting, though. Princes did not pout. Children who didn't get their way pouted, not grown men of status who just so happened to 'luck' their way into a bonding ritual with a mortal.

Said mortal appeared to be doing everything in her power to ignore his existence. Two could happily play at that game.

"A-ha!"

Frigga's declaration earned rapt attention from Thor, but Loki and Jane were too busy giving each other the silent treatment to acknowledge anything that went beyond their little world. They kept their arms crossed and their backs turned away from each other until Frigga sighed and muttered a familiar spell. A faint red cloud formed between Loki and Jane, the pair of them blind to it. Thor wasn't, and he remembered all too well a childhood full of rambunctious disobedience that had created that spell. He ducked for cover, leaving the happy couple to take the thunderous blast of noise that threw them off their feet. The cloud dissipated, a sweetly smiling Frigga all that remained.

"Now that I have your attention," she said, "I think I have what you're looking for."

She patted the book and the page she'd left off on, covered in tiny script Jane Foster could never hope to understand. Loki smirked when she all but ran to have a look, and in an instant, her joy melted into confusion.

"Is it a way to end it… this 'bond' or whatever it is?"

Frigga pursed her lips.

"Well, this page is more of an overview." She ran regal fingers over the top line. "It's an archaic ritual, created by the first of our ancestors millennia ago. Back then, marriage had fewer connotations than it does today. There was no ceremony or celebration. Those with magic would be called on to invoke the rights and privately perform the ritual. It was over and done with in seconds."

"Yeah, I know," Jane muttered, playing with her wrist and the swirling red vines crawling up her skin. Loki twitched involuntarily. The vines on his wrist twisted tantamount with hers. He had a sneaking suspicion this wasn't the last time it would happen.

"There were several requirements that needed to be met before a ritual could commence," Frigga went on. "It needed to be at night, under a clear sky. The bride and groom were to be holding hands, though it looks like any sort of skin to skin contact was acceptable. At the time of the accident, what were you two doing?"

"We were having a_ discussion_," Loki said before Jane could start. "She tried to slap me again, so I stopped her hand."

Frigga nodded.

"The next requirement is that the bride and groom must make a vow to always remain at each other's side."

Jane, who had been fiddling with a strip of splintered wood on one of the older bookshelves, became the next victim of Frigga's scrutinizing gaze. This time, she would not escape so easily.

"Jane?" she asked.

Loki smelled her anxiety like sweet honey. If only he could play with it without fear of his mother's wrath.

Jane sighed deeply. "We were fighting," she said. "Or having a discussion or whatever you want to call it, and I wanted him to apologize to me, and I told him I wouldn't go until he did."

"What were your exact words?"

There was another moment's hesitation.

"I said... 'I will never leave you alone until you apologize.'"

"Ah!" Frigga cried. "So you vowed never to leave him."

"Until he apologized!"

"It doesn't matter. You began with 'I will never leave you.' That's all you need."

It seemed that was when Jane Foster's puny mind finally ran itself dry, and discernible language became impossible. A meaningless cry was all she could manage as her legs gave out and she slumped to the ground, blissfully silent.

A look of pity crossed Frigga's face, and Loki refrained from telling her she shouldn't waste her energy on such an unworthy being. He didn't need to hear anything about 'respecting his wife,' as if he actually had one.

"It still makes no sense, mother," he said, coming up to her side to read over her shoulder. "If these are really the requirements for a ritualistic marriage, wouldn't mistaken ones be more common? Surely Jane Foster and I are not the only ones on Asgard to ever fight on sacred grounds and make false promises out of anger."

"You are right as always, son," Frigga said, patting his head in that way he had to pretend he didn't like. "There is one final requirement, perhaps the most important one of all."

She moves the book around for him, pointing at the middle of the page.

"The bride must possess a gift hand-crafted by her groom, worn on the arm or around the neck," he read.

"Jane? You were wearing the bracelet I loaned you for the party, yes?" Frigga called over to her. "The green and gold one?"

Loki's insides froze, colder than the icy winds of Jotunheim.

"You gave her the bracelet I made you?!" he shouted. "I put my blood and sweat into crafting it piece by piece for a hundred years and you let that mortal tramp-"

The red cloud was twice as big, and three times as fast, so not even Thor could dodge this time. Loki flew into the back wall, his magic buffering him to absorb the worst of the shock. It did little for the pain, though.

"Loki," Frigga intoned, approaching her son with the countenance of a hunter after her prey. "You will _not_ raise your voice to me, and you will _not_ speak of your wife that way. You will apologize to her right now, and then you will show her the gardens on the southeast side. I'm sure you remember them?"

The southeast garden was Frigga's. She had grown it from a single seed and nurtured all that came of it. The flowers grew with her boys, tall and strong. Now, Frigga's special magic pulsed within the air itself. No matter what went on in that garden, Frigga would know. She could sense every little pleasure and every wisp of negativity. From her eyes, none could ever hide.

"I understand," Loki mumbled, and Frigga knew he did.

Picking himself up, he bowed his head to her and then to Jane (much quicker). His apology was almost unintelligible, and not at all to Jane's satisfaction. Loki could manipulate the stars themselves to spell out how deeply sorry he was, and it wouldn't be enough, simply because it was Loki.

The two of them shuffled out of the room, taking their crippling animosity with them. The twin marks on their wrists that forever bound them danced at the contact.

With them gone, Thor turned to his mother.

"Is it wise to send them off on their own? I can't imagine Loki will be much of a gentleman, or Jane a lady."

"They will be fine," Frigga said, turning to the next page and marking it. "If worst comes to worst, the separation ritual takes a mere fortnight to prepare, but I doubt it will come to that."

"With all due respect, mother, Loki and Jane Foster have displayed nothing short of complete disdain for each other from the moment they met. I have a hard time believing that could ever turn into love."

Frigga chuckled. The book floated back into place as she left her seat and looped an arm around Thor's, leading the two of them out.

"You'd be surprised to find how often true love begins in shaky waters," she said. "Believe me, my son. I would know."

At Thor's questioning gaze, Frigga would only smile.


	11. Terry

**This was an anonymous request, and I'm not sure, but I think it's the same anon who requested the gingerbread man drabble.**

**Happy Birthday, Tom Hiddleston**

**  
"Hey there, Jane! Sorry to barge in, but I need to borrow some- HOLY CALL OF CTHULHU, WHAT IS THAT?!"

Darcy Lewis looked positively cartoonish as she twitched and pointed at the monster curled up at Jane Foster's feet. Her jaw fell; any further down and it would unhinge like a snake's.

In the face of such abject petrification, the best Jane could come up with was a nervous laugh and a sheepish rub of her neck. It was really no wonder she didn't have many friends.

"Hi, Darcy!" Jane waved, seemingly ignorant of her intern's hunched over posture and the way the color had sucked out of her face. "Happy Valentine's Day."

There was an obvious underscore of comfort that Jane was trying to convey. Unfortunately, Darcy's brain was still in the process of crashing and re-starting, otherwise it might have caught on.

"Haaaaaaa…" Darcy's limp wrist swung weakly in the general direction of Jane's feet, and of… whatever that thing was nuzzling it's tentacled face around her ankles and _purring_.

"Oh, I almost forget," said Jane, who definitely _had not forgotten at all, so who the hell did she think she was kidding?! _Jane nudged at one of the tentacles, prompting the creature to remove itself from her and stand. It reached a height that would put the Hulk to shame. "Darcy, I'd like you to meet Terry. Terry, Darcy."

The tentacles blew outward, from the force of the breath the beast released. Something resembling a 'hello' could be heard if one listened closely, and drank several shots of tequila beforehand.

Darcy, however, was completely sober.

Probably.

About 80 to 85 percent for sure.

She took one step forward, then thought it over and took two steps back. The thing blinked it's bug-like black eyes at her, tilting it's head to one side, as if trying to determine if she fell under the category 'friend' or 'dinner'.

"Hi there," Darcy waved awkwardly, her fingers half curled in. "Uh… it's nice to meet you… Terry. Terry…?"

She glanced helplessly at Jane, for more reasons than one, as 'Terry' appeared to be crouching down in preparation for a pounce. Jane placed a hand on it's… arm… calling off the attack for now.

"Yeah, uh… apparently, it's real name is untranslatable and way too long to remember anyway," Jane explained, "so Loki said I should just call him Terry. It's close enough."

Make that 70 percent.

"Wait a second," Darcy cried out. "Loki got that for you? Loki- actually no, I'm not shocked. I'm not shocked at all. Why would I be?"

A delirious laugh filled the room, mingling with the baritone grinding of Terry, who seemed to think Darcy was playing some kind of game, and was eager to join in. Another shushing from Jane later, and it was once more docile at her feet. Meanwhile, Darcy was not even close to stopping. If anything, her good humor increased.

"Darcy, knock it off!" Jane shouted in vain. "This isn't funny."

"Isn't funny?!" Darcy shouted in between guffaws. "Jane, there is nothing _not_ funny about this. Except for the fact that after everything this whackjob has done, you're still with him!"

"Hey! You know as well as anyone that Loki has changed. He hasn't tried to take over the world in months!"

"Oh yeah?" Darcy shot back, having finally gotten herself under control just in time for one of Terry's tentacles to run up Jane's leg to her waist, rewarded with a pat on the creature's head… shaped thing. "Let's think about that for a second. Case in point: last Valentine's Day, one of the coldest in history."

"I remember, Darcy," Jane said, groaning. Undeterred, Darcy went on.

"You made the wise decision to complain to Loki that your heater was broken, and that you'd like some hotter weather. So what does he do, Jane?"

Darcy rotated her hands, in the universal 'get on with it' sign. Jane was clearly wondering if she could get away with having Terry eat Darcy as she sighed and mumbled.

"He put a volcano in the-"

"A vol-fucking-cano!" Darcy shrieked, unable to wait any longer. "In the _backyard_, Jane!"

"He took it right out!"

"After two weeks and three eruptions!" Darcy was literally pulling at her hair by now. "I still have a bald spot back here from the last one!"

Darcy scratched furiously at said spot, knocking off her hat and the sections of hair carefully placed to cover it.

"So what did you tell him this time?" Darcy asked with a manically. "Let me guess, you extolled to him your deep, unending love of HP Lovecraft."

"No," Jane snapped, only to lose the bite to her bark mere moments later. "I… I said that I was in the mood for some squid."

Darcy gave her a look.

"Squid as in _food_," Jane elaborated. "I wanted to go out for sushi, but I guess he didn't get it, or-"

"Oh, I think he got it, Jane," Darcy said, nodding her head. "I think he got it perfectly. He just decided to fulfill your little Valentine's wish in his own twisted way, which is how you got your hands on Squidward Tentacles over here."

As if things couldn't get any worse, the creature started to whimper, and hide away from Darcy's penetrating gaze behind the safety of Jane's legs.

And as if _that_ wasn't bad enough, the temperature in the room proceeded to do a nosedive, as familiar, haunting laughter filled the air. It started out kind of echo-y, only to solidify alongside it's owner. He cast a long shadow over Darcy.

"Now, now, Miss Lewis," Loki said, waving his finger in a 'tut tut' sort of motion. "You should choose your words more carefully. Regardless of what your misguided scribes of old have led you to believe, Terry is of a very friendly and sensitive breed. He's also quite intelligent, capable of learning any language within just a few weeks."

At this, Terry stepped slightly into the open, groaning something that sounded vaguely like 'A, B, C, D, E,-'

"Not only that, but he loves meeting people," Loki grinned in the most normal, 'I-am-not-a-psychopath' way he could manage, which just made him look twice as psychotic. "Why don't you go and say a proper hello?"

He gestured her over to Jane and Terry. When Darcy wouldn't move, he 'gently' guided her there. Any attempt to break free was half-assed at best, not that Darcy had a prayer of escaping him even if she did fight back. The fear was too debilitating. From this close, more of Terry's disturbing features came into view, from the scaly, spindly appendages one might mistake for fingers, to the sheen of mucus that coated him from 'head' to… feet type things.

Darcy felt as though her soul had left her body, and she watched from afar her arm reaching out and coming to rest just over Terry's left eyeball. Warm wetness against her skin brought her back to reality. Darcy fought not to gag as Terry let out another purr and closed his eyes, pressing himself more into her touch.

The bizarre thing about it was- as the seconds dragged on the initial disgust wore off- it really wasn't so bad petting him. Maybe it was because he hadn't chomped her arm off yet and she'd been lulled into a false sense of security. Or maybe it was the sudden lack of Loki's weight at her back that allowed her to breathe easier, and see that up close, there was something kind of… _cute_ about Terry.

A really, really,_ really_ ugly sort of cute, but cute all the same.

"See that?" Loki said to Jane as he wrapped an arm around her waist. "I told you they'd get along swimmingly."

There was a long pause before Jane answered. Out the corner of her eye, Darcy could see her watching them, with a less than enthused look on her face. For the first time all day, Darcy wanted to tell her to stop worrying. It was all good.

"I guess you're right," Jane said, though a twinge of uncertainty still found it's way into her tone.

"Of course I am," Loki jovially declared, "and now that our pet-sitter has arrived, let us be off, Jane. I have a night prepared for you that you will never forget."

Darcy listened along to the lines of conversation until the moment it hit her.

"PET-SITTER?!"

But they were already gone.


	12. A Modest Proposal

**A/N: This is a Valentine's Day prompt request from aenigmaticdays.**

**Hope you all had a good one!**

* * *

They say there is no such thing as a perfect moment.

Actually, Darcy Lewis said that, but the way she phrased it implied the influence of some unseen other, whom she can identify only as 'they'.

Whoever 'they' are, they clearly have never met Loki.

Telling Loki he can't do something is usually a short path to getting your words shoved so far down your throat that you choke to death, if you're lucky. That is what makes Darcy a bonafide luckchild. She got away without a scratch on her, though the same cannot be said for her funny little music device, the pieces to which she was still tearing the lab apart looking for when Loki left her. On the way out, he dropped off those bits of her 'ipod' somewhere in the desert for safekeeping, and promptly forgot which patch of sand he'd left them on once Jane arrived to meet him.

Oh, well.

Jane is radiant in her curve-hugging blue dress, the one she bought especially for this occasion. It is complemented by the sapphire earrings he hand crafted for her on her last birthday, and the slick sheen of her newly styled hair that frames a face made up to emphasize her natural beauty. Loki isn't too proud to say he's speechless at the sight of her.

"I hope this place is really as upscale as you say it is," she says on the way down the busy Parisian streets. She moves awkwardly in heels she probably regrets buying. Her dress serves her no better for travel. She shivers in the nippy winter air, prompting Loki to shed his suit jacket and drape it around her.

"Of course it is," he says, "I would never lead you astray, darling."

He isn't lying, not really. If he were to tell the whole truth, he'd have to explain all the trips he'd taken to different parts of Midgard, sampling all her favorites at the finest restaurants he could find, looking for just the right one for tonight. He'd have to admit that almost all of Midgard's cuisine ranged from sub-par to downright nauseating (not that it was the Midgardian's faults his tastes were so much more advanced than theirs').

And, of course, he'd have to tell her the real reason he's arranged this whole evening.

From the start, things go according to plan. They arrive in the country of France at sunset. Loki did a little research into the nation after choosing it, the gist of it seeming to be that they were overly fond of cheese and abysmal at warfare. Thor would not be pleased.

That aside, the city of Paris was known for it's attention to romance, to the point of being a cliche in the eyes of some. While the opinion of the average Midgardian is something Loki would rarely give credence to, even he must admit that at first glance, Paris is not the fairy tale come alive it is billed as, at least not during daytime.

It's nearing 9 in the evening. The Eiffel tower shines a golden light, like a beacon. Jane, for all that she finds the wonders of the universe above preferable to what is under her feet, is mesmerized by the city's beauty, even as he must secretly spell her into some more comfortable shoes before she breaks her ankles.

That is a minor flaw in an otherwise perfect start to their perfect night. Loki laughs in the face of that metaphorical 'they'.

Their dining experience similarly goes off without a hitch. It would have been a blow to his pride if Jane's meal had been anything below orgasmic. She raves about it even after they have paid and left, until Loki must silence her by force, cloaking them in light and stars to bring them to their next stop, the most important of them all.

"Close your eyes," he tells her, as his magic surges and transports them away from the unknowing populace. He keeps her blind even after they have arrived. A new kind of cold threatens to freeze them to the bone, but Loki is quicker. Jane feels not a whiff of it, there is only warmth around her, from his magic and his body.

"Can I open them?"

"Not yet."

Loki waves his hands in intricate motions, weaving magic through the air that paints the sky and dulls away all sound. When the roar of the wind is all one can hear, Loki takes her by the hand.

"Alright, now."

He revels in her gasp, that tiny exclamation of shock and awe, the likes of which only a new break in her research can illicit. He has never told her how much he loves it, but there are a great many things about her that he loves. Simply telling her all of them when he could be showing her would be a waste. That is why they are here tonight, in this place where the stars and galaxies afar are hers to cherish. Spread out through the sky, they could give one an impression of smallness, even Jane seems intimidated by the depths of universe, that she might be seeing for the first time with her own eyes.

"Oh my god..."

There is a little quip he could make about that statement, but he'll save it for later. Why spoil the mood?

"I take it you like my surprise?"

It must take all her will to tear her eyes away, and let him see the gleam of unshed tears. Her mouth is poised in an 'o' shape, her red lips plump and delicious to behold. It makes him wish he could skip ahead to the kiss. It's sure to be the best either of them have ever had.

"Loki," she says, choking on her own words. "How did you..."

He shushes her gently.

"It matters not _how_," he says, "it is the _why_ that is important, and the why Jane, is that I want this to be the most wonderful night of your life. I want this to be a night that you will look back on, with tears in your eyes and joy in your heart. Tonight, if you will allow me, I wish to prove the depths of my feelings for you."

Loki's free hand reaches behind his back, removing the tiny velvet box from thin air. With no time left to think or to wonder or to fear rejection, Loki drops to one knee as Darcy trained him to. His fingers rub up and down the smooth skin of her knuckles, as another gasp graces her lips.

"Jane Foster," Loki says, feeling for the first time like he could cry with her. "Would you do me the great honor of being my-"

An explosion drowns out the last word. Loki goes flying, almost over the edge of the tower. A quickly placed shield bounces him back into place as he follows the sound of Jane's screams to find her on the ground, her hair a mess and her dress askew.

"Are you alright?" he asks, taking her face in his hands to assess the damage.

He doesn't get an answer, but for a red and gold blur to land with a metallic thud. As the suit of armor raises to full (unimpressive) height, the mask retracts to reveal a bearded, grinning face.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Rudolph!" Tony Stark shouts.

And he doesn't spontaneously catch fire right after, the way he should have.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?!" Loki roars.

Unfazed, Stark makes wide motions at the city of Paris, sans electrical power. Outside of his and Jane's little bubble, Loki can hear the faint rise of shouting and rioting down below. He hopes Jane can't hear it too, because he knows he'll get an earful later if she can.

"I was in the middle of a romantic date with my lovely CEO-slash- girlfriend," says Stark like his problems are something that matters, "when all of a sudden, the power goes out! Then I go to investigate, and I find you guys stargazing on top of the Eiffel tower. Aren't there planetariums for things like this?"

Loki doesn't know if Stark is addressing him or Jane with that last question, but either way, he's going to crush the man's head into jelly before this is over.

"I am trying to propose marriage to Jane," Loki hisses at him. His magic cracks threateningly, not that Stark is sensible enough to take the hint.

"Oh, well, my apologies then," says Stark, hands up in surrender. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't harnessing the city's power for some kind of death ray or whatever. Wouldn't have been a bad spot if you were, considering France's less than stellar track record with wars... it's just too bad I already called for backup."

Loki is only half listening at that point, as he goes again to check on Jane and tries to think of some other location he can take them to that suits his purposes. Then, a hundred lights feeding from a hundred helicopters- all with SHIELD's logo- descend upon them. The force is powerful enough to catch the couple unprepared. Before he can come to her aid, Jane is thrown off her feet once again, the hem of her dress riding dangerously up.

By the end of it all, Paris is a warzone, Tony Stark is down one more suit of armor, SHIELD needs several weeks to thaw out their hundred helicopters from a city sized block of ice, and Loki has to settle for a proposal in Jane's New Mexico lab, with Darcy sitting off to the side, eating Pringles and browsing a Best Buy catalog for her new ipod.


	13. See You Soon

**A/N: This was a request from puresummermagic.**

* * *

Loki opens the door and loses his footing at once. Over the rich crescendo of battle, he can hear her voice, sweet, yet fearful, calling his name as she rushes to him. Her hands wrap around his shoulders as she tries to look him over. Loki resists her efforts for as long as he can, until his throat constricts and he hacks up a pint of blood. His ears rang, so loud that he's deaf to her shouts, even as she's sitting right beside him.

The roar of explosives is what finally pulls him out of it. There's no way of knowing which side just launched an attack, but Loki has a bad feeling it isn't theirs. Before, when he saw the men manning Asgard's cannons, they were shouting desperately to their superior that they were down to ashes and sawdust. That was before him and Thor made their final, desperate stand against the invaders. The last time Loki saw Thor, he was taking on ten at once. Mjolnir sang with devastating power that would nevertheless not be enough for all of them. Thor knew that, and it's with a sense of grief Loki never thought he could feel for Tho that he looks out the window at the clear, cloudless sky.

"Loki…" Jane is at a loss for what to do, it's in her every word. That she can't help him is no secret. He is losing strength fast and can no longer stop her from laying him out on the floor to see the enormous hole in his stomach. Blood gushes from the wound, enough that it no longer hurts him. There is a numbness instead, that hides from him Jane's fruitless efforts to close the wound until he looks up and sees her divest of her outer robe. Pressed against the hole, it soaks up blood that stains her fingers red. Tears creep down her face a mile a minute. She's speaking words he cannot comprehend. She throws aside the ruined cloth and starts ripping the blankets from their bed. Loki forces his arm up to grab her, stopping her.

"Jane," he coughs out. He's not sure if she can hear him; he can hardly hear himself. "Stop… it's too late."

"Don't say that," she cries. "You can't mean-"

He makes her drop the sheet. Her knees buckle and she falls. She plants herself directly over him, looking down. Her hair tickles his face, the only sensation he is capable of feeling anymore. She presses a hand to his forehead, her clammy skin chilling him where it should have warmed. Unless that's just his body shutting down from blood loss.

"Jane," he says her name again. He could say it a million times if it gave him just a little more time with her. "There is not much time."

He focuses his magic, just enough to summon one more dagger. Their hands entwine around it. Jane winces as it cuts into her skin, but as their blood mingles together, a peace comes over her, the same resignation that he has felt all along.

Outside, the battle heats up, as news of the Princes' fall reaches the despairing soldiers. Screams fill the halls as the walls of the palace are breached. Swords swing and heads roll, and it's only a matter of time before they find this place.

"Are you ready?" Loki asks.

Jane smiles weakly and shakes her head.

"Not really," she says. "This was supposed to be a happy day."

Loki laces their fingers together. If he could, he would transfer some relaxing suggestions through the contact, like he used to when the sun still shone on them, before all of this.

"I don't know about you, but I'm feeling very spirited right now."

It's a bad attempt at a joke, and they both know it, but it's all Loki has anymore, and in another minute, he might not even have that.

"Remember the words," he says to her, and his other hand clamps over the one joined with hers. "I, Loki Odinson of Asgard..."

She hiccups, and swallows back tears to answer: "I, Jane Foster of Midgard..."

"Do take you, Jane Foster of Midgard, as my wife…"

"Do take you, Loki Odinson of Asgard, as my husband…"

"To love and honor for all of my days…"

"To love and honor for all of my days…"

"To protect and care for…"

"To protect and care for…"

"With all that I am…"

"With all that I am…"

"And with the strength of my love as my guide…"

"And with the strength of my love as my guide…"

His palm takes on a warm tingle, the magic forming a brilliant golden aura that binds their hands and their souls.

"Let this be my promise…"

Someone is bashing on the door. Jane bites down on her lip as her hand trembles, but her voice rings true:

"Let- Let this be my promise…"

"From now, until the end of my days."

"From now, until the end of my days."

"And beyond."

The addition catches her by surprise, but as the magic swirls and fuses, and he can feel her pain, her fear, her longing for a future that will never be. Most of all, he feels her hope, that maybe there can still be something for them, in a place where there is no war and no death; hope that he inspires in her, as she once did for him.

"And beyond," she finishes.

The first lock breaks. The enemy screams bloody murder, his name on their lips.

Jane lets go of him.

She still has the dagger.

Loki's vision fades to darkness.

The dagger slashes through skin.

The door caves inward.

Jane's body falls on top of him.

In those final few seconds, Loki feels her skin and his body relaxes.

He smiles.

_'Seen you soon, Wife.'_


	14. Persuasion

**A/N: This was an anonymous request. Please be aware of the increase in rating and that there is a very good reason for it before you proceed. ;)**

* * *

There are times when Jane thinks she's hit the jackpot: dating a man with the face of an angel and the body of a male model, who, at the time same, can keep up with her intellectually and is never predictable.

Then there are times when Jane remembers all that crazy 'world domination' stuff Loki used to be about. And _then_ there are times when Loki proves himself to be really no different than any other man.

"Please?"

She inches down the length of Loki's body, devoid of all but loose fitting pajama pants, which she now slides off of him to reveal his throbbing arousal. He groans when she wraps her tongue around the shaft, licking up and down in slow, fluid motions.

"Pretty please?"

She takes the whole of him into her mouth, sucking liberally as he grips the sides of her head, holding her gently in place.

"I... will not... never..."

Jane cradles his balls between her fingers, and he gasps and bucks instinctively. Jane somehow avoids gagging long enough to finish him. He releases into her mouth and Jane swallows it back in one big gulp. The aftertaste will persist for some time, but the heated kiss that follows takes away some of it. Loki's tongue sweeps along her mouth, running the line of her teeth before he stops to catch his breath.

They lay tangled in each other's arms for some time. Maybe it's an hour, maybe it's five minutes. Jane can't be sure. After a while, she nudges him.

"So, will you do it?"

At first, Loki is silent. Jane thinks that he might have fallen asleep until she looks up and sees him watching her. His eyes are burning, and Jane has no time to prepare before he attacks. He throws her onto her back, pressing her down with his body. His mouth latches onto her throat and trails a heady line to her lips. While Jane is distracted with that, Loki thrusts into her. Jane's gasp is swallowed up by his tongue, as he moves at a steadily increasing pace. He slides almost all the way out, then slams back in. So many times that Jane can't be bothered counting.

Her higher brain functions turn to mush as he brings her closer and closer to the moon and then pushes her over. Jane screams openly, he wants to hear this. Her climax roars through her as he grunts and lets himself go as well.

Their cooling bodies come to rest amid torn, ruined sheets. Loki raises himself up, already having regained himself while she is still struggling to string two words together (curse his stamina).

He presses a kiss to her forehead, taking in her glazed over eyes and sweat drenched skin. He grins.

"Oh, how could I say no to a face like that?"

The doorbell rings five times in quick succession. Like always, Darcy follows by unlocking the door herself and barging in with a kick and a shout.

"Good afternoon, lovebirds! You'd better not be getting it on in there, because it is sixteen hours to Valentine's Day and if I don't find the right gift for Ian, nobody will be sleeping tonight! Also, I was thinking we'd stop at the Apple store afterwards..."

Loki rolls his eyes, and Jane can't exactly blame him. Getting out of bed, his clothes form around him as he walks out of the room.

"I'd only do this for you, Jane," he says.

Jane rests her head in her hands and she grins.

"I know."

"HELLOOOO? Is someone taking me to the mall or what? Jane! Loki! One of you, put your pants back on and get out here!"

Loki exhales hard through his teeth.

"_Only_ for you."


	15. Loose Lipped

**A/N: This was a request from calie1003.**

* * *

They actually didn't fight that often.

A lot of people would be surprised to hear it. Darcy sure was, she thought they were lying. Erik was worse, he thought Loki was manipulating Jane into complacency, because _of course_ couples fought. Did she really expect him to believe otherwise?

It was easy to ignore them, and anyone else who thought their relationship was doomed to fail (read: everyone). They spent their days quietly (nights were another story), Jane might make some new breakthrough in her research with Loki's help, Loki might narrowly avoid a skirmish with SHIELD or the Avengers and need Jane to bail him out. If Jane had some free time, Loki would take her out for a date night, to whatever part of the globe had caught his interest this week.

Fights tended to enter the mix only on special occasions. Like when Jane got a little too reckless and nearly killed herself trying to get data during a storm. Or that time Loki misinterpreted a man asking Jane for the time as an attempt at flirting and turned him into a fire ant. Sometimes, fights happened for no other reason than one of them having an off day and the other making some innocuous comment to unintentionally set them off.

Usually, though, it was something like the first two things.

"Loki, I swear to God, if you don't apologize and fix this right now, I will ban you from this lab _and_ my apartment, and you can sleep on the roof for all I care. And don't even think about turning that 'god' part around to make it about you!"

The door to the lab hung slightly open, Darcy right outside it. The glass was her shield as Loki and Jane stared at her, until she had no choice but to walk inside and put her bag down.

"Yeah... I'm just gonna make myself a smoothie," she said. "I'll be back in an hour or six. Don't mind me!"

She walked backwards, moving out of their sight as if they couldn't hear her when she started running. With her gone, the paths were clear, and the lab was once more a battlefield.

"There is literally no reason for you to be angry, Jane," Loki said, and he'd been saying different variations of that since this morning. It was no less infuriating every time she heard it.

"No reason?" she shrieked. "You come waltzing in here at six in the morning after being gone _all day_ yesterday, and you completely re-arrange all of my stuff?!"

Jane grabbed a half built telescope that used to be stored in her closet, and dropped it on a work table that was supposed to be over by the window. Loki had taken a seat in her favorite swivel chair- the one she kept in the corner for late night easy reading. The burning fire of her rage was doused by his cool gaze. This just made her burn hotter, which in turn, gave him all the more reason to stay aloof.

"If you would cease yelling at me and let me explain," he stopped there, as if knowing that she would interrupt.

"I would love for you to explain this, Loki," she said. "Here's my problem: I never know when you're telling the truth or not. You say you're going to be gone for ten minutes, and the next time I see you, it's twenty four hours later, and you've destroyed my lab!"

"Oh, this is hardly destroyed," Loki retorts, crossing his arms. "I was going to put everything back once I'd found what I was looking for."

"Which was?"

She eyed him like he was one of her samples under a microscope. He once said that she had a stare sharp as a sword's blade, and yet today, that sword might as well have been made of rubber. It didn't matter how long or how hard her eyes lingered, his lips were sealed.

"Fine, don't tell me," she said, turning away. "Just clean this up, and don't expect me to forget about it."

She went to her writing desk in the corner. Maybe a little mind-numbing paperwork would do her some good. She was halfway there before she realized her desk had been moved about ten feet to the left. Groaning, she stalked to it, muttering all the way. Loki hadn't left her swivel chair, and his voice carried over the mountains of disorganized data sheets (it would take forever to get those back in order).

"…insane that woman is, how I managed to fall for her…"

Jane stopped, turned right around, and bounded through the gap between tables, knocking over a binder full of notes. They spilled all over the floor, the cover sheet would sport Jane's shoe print for the rest of it's days.

"What did you just say?"

He had abandoned the chair in favor of restoring her filing system to it's former, organized, glory. Within seconds, they were as if no one but her had ever touched them, but if he thought that was going to distract her, he was sorely mistaken.

"Loki?" she asked.

"Yes?" he answered.

Jane frowned, though the corners of her mouth were itching to turn up. "I heard what you just said."

"Hmmm…"

"You said you loved me."

The last of the papers fell into place, and with that method of stalling off the table, Loki had no choice but to face her.

"Did I?"

Okay, he was definitely doing this on purpose. There was no way Loki could ever be that obtuse.

"Don't tell me you're going to back down now," she said.

"How can I?" he asked lightly. "I'm not even sure if what you heard is what truly was said. Did I use the word love?"

Jane faltered. "Well, no, but I know that's what you meant."

"Truly, your surety is to be admired."

"Loki, I highly doubt that when you say you've 'fallen for me,' you mean that you've literally fallen."

"Couldn't it? Perhaps you need to spend less time jumping to conclusions and more time cleaning up in here." Loki said, smirking. "Just look at this mess!"

It was but a few seconds later that Darcy stuck her head out, wanting to know if the danger had passed and it was safe to come out. Instead of a clean lab with Loki and Jane playing nice and talking things out like mature adults, inside was the same chaos she left behind, except now, they had something new to fight about. Something about Loki falling and Jane misinterpreting things, or maybe it was Jane who fell and Loki who was confused. Hard to say, really.

Darcy bit into the apple she'd grabbed from Jane's fruit bowl, the crunching effectively silencing the both of them and making Darcy the center of attention.

"You know," she said with her mouth still full, "in a weird way, you guys are actually kind of perfect for each other."


End file.
